


Memento

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 15 Inspired [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Coda, Cowboy Castiel, Cowboy Hats, Cowboys, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Loves Pictures, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s15e15 Gimme Shelter, Hanging Out, Love, M/M, Photographer Dean Winchester, Sharing a Bed, Soft Castiel (Supernatural), Soft Dean Winchester, Stolen Moments, Unspoken Bond, movies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: Why did Castiel have a photo of himself in a cowboy hat? Where did he get it? Who took it, and more importantly who gave it to him?Coda to 15x15 "Gimme Shelter"
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Season 15 Inspired [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517543
Comments: 6
Kudos: 115





	Memento

**Author's Note:**

> Ha HA! And YOU didn't think I'd get a story out after tonight's ep!
> 
> (Lol, actually I thought I wouldn't because I watched the Biden Town Hall first THEN Supernatural, but I did it because I knew it'd be short!)
> 
> So, please, enjoy the story!!

Cas finds it, oddly enough, on Dean’s nightstand. Wedged between the pages of an old tome left abandoned, hidden. With only its edge poking out. He pinched the visible end, pulling carefully. Slowly. As if taking it won’t interfere with Dean’s research. Cas doubts, though. A layer of dust blankets most of the cover, and treatises on variations of hex bags doesn’t seem like a book Dean reads during his spare time. Besides these obvious clues, there’s also the powerful tug of curiosity calling him forward. Siren song too tempting for such a simple bookmark.

He frees it.

It’s not a bookmark. It’s him.

Tracing the edges of his profile, Cas studies the candid shot taken one, maybe two years ago. Hastily bought cowboy hat looking ridiculous paired with his everyday outfit of a suit and trench coat. Still, he kept it on. Brought this accessory home, baited into doing so, and hung it over a hook in his room. Worn only when requested.

Not tonight. They’re watching a different movie. A murder mystery Dean found from the seventies, rented through Amazon. He promised Cas would like it. Swore there were no cowboys in this picture.

But he hadn’t meant what Cas held in his hand, did he?

Dean returns, Cas hearing the slight hiccup of breath he makes. Cas glances from his face, seeing how pale Dean’s become. Towel slung around his shoulders; wet hair plastered to his forehead. Sleepwear damp from him dressing while not fully dry. His lips flatten, dimples popping as lines around his eyes crinkle. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Cas says, flicking the photo, “where’d you get this?”

He shrugs, “Took it on my phone.”

“When?”

More shrugging. Dean shuffles forward, dumping his towel on a nearby pile. Waits until he’s on the other side of his bed, sitting across from Cas. Bodies turned towards each other. “Back in Tombstone,” Dean explains, “when we were filling Baby’s tank after chatting with the sheriff. You were watching that busker by the bus stop.”

“He was really good,” Cas adds, remembering. A guitar melody echoing in his mind, haunting but beautiful. It reminded him of someone, and that’s why he stared in the busker’s direction. At least then there’d be less questions.

Dean nods. “Anyway, I’d just paid the attendant and we could’ve left but… the sun was going down at the right time, and you looked…” His hand waves, parsing through the air for help. He gets none. “Figured I should take a picture,” he says, lamely, “I never seem to have enough of you, Cas.”

Cas thinks about his reasoning. About how many pictures of Dean he has. On his phone, sure. In person, like what he holds? There’s barely any. Dean’s fondness for visible copies of memories warms his heart, and his thumb brushes his own cheek. “You took a great photo of me.”

“Helps when I’ve got a good model.”

“You had this printed, correct?” he asks, switching course. Driving off the highway before they could continue on dangerous terrain. “How?”

“Took it to a pharmacy in town,” Dean tells him, “They got the tech, even though a lot of people don’t need it anymore. Probably the only guy who uses it, actually. The kid behind the counter knows me by _name_.” He chuckles, rubbing at his knee. “Were you thinking of getting some photos of your own printed?”

“I think so, yes…” Cas smiles, “Hanging some pictures in my room might be nice, or I can always keep them in books.” An arched, pointed brow that draws further awkward laughter from Dean.

“Yeah, I – you _caught_ me,” he says. Dean swipes at his nose, head bowed, “I… I was going through my photos but – uh… time got away from me. Knew you’d be swinging by soon for our – our movie, hang… _thing_. I slid them in there to put away later, after my shower or after the – the movie.”

“So, if I were to open this book… there’d be more pictures?” Dean won’t answer. That’s all Cas needs. He places the photo on top of its former resting place. “I think it’s about time we start that movie, don’t you?”

“I’ll boot my laptop,” Dean says, standing. Obvious relief entwined with his tone. “You get cozy, Cas.”

“As you wish.” The other man stills by his desk, shoulders tensing. Cas softly huffs under breath, discarding his outer layers. Princess Bride was months ago. He liked quoting it, still, whenever the occasion arose. By the time Cas slips his shoes off, Dean lay in bed. Propped by pillows, laptop on his lap. Cas climbs in next to him, legs pressed together. Socked foot against bare. “Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” He worries his lip, distracted while setting up the movie. “What is it?”

“Do you have a second copy of that picture of me?”

Dean’s finger stills over the spacebar. His gaze darts over, peeking at Cas out the corner of his eye. “Didn’t know you were that self-absorbed Cas.”

He elbows Dean, feigning a scowl that blossoms into a tiny grin when Dean fully faces him. Their noses inches apart, where he can feel each breath that leaves him. “It’s not that,” Cas says, “I… it’s a great picture that you took. To me, it wouldn’t be a reminder of the subject… but of the artist.”

His skin radiates heat, temperature rising each second after Cas spoke. Dean glances at his lips, then meets Cas’s eyes again. “I don’t have to print another one out,” he says, voice a hoarse whisper, “you can keep that one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Dean coughs, breaking their contest. Turning back towards the screen, “As you wish or… whatever.”

Cas feels his body tip over the edge, bursting with an enormous light. Going full supernova. In the next blink, all that fire collapses in on itself and rests nicely in his stomach. A flickering candle that won’t ever fade.

He scoots closer, throwing his leg across Dean’s. Their ankles crossed. “So,” Cas purrs, “this movie we’re watching? What’s it about?”

“Like I told you Cas, it’s a murder mystery,” he grouses, “I’m not gonna spoil anything?”

“Not even the setting? The characters? The _name_?”

Dean relents, hissing out a few curses before revealing bits of the story. “It’s called the Last Sheila, and it…” His mind wanders, Dean’s voice lulling him safely into a comfortable state. A half-awareness. Being both in the moment and outside it. Cas looks at the scene as if he were a voyeur. Considers their positions, history, and everything else. Wonders how it would look captured through the lens of a camera.

It’d make for an amazing photo. However, Cas is perfectly content letting the opportunity pass. Being present with Dean more important than that. They don’t have to pin every butterfly to the corkboard or trap every firefly in a glass jar. Life moves forward. Cas will have plenty of chances, enough he can fill a scrapbook.

Right now, he and Dean are watching a movie.

That’s all.

**Author's Note:**

> So for anyone who's interested The Last of Sheila is a real movie that you can rent on Amazon for like $3-4 bucks that I really loved, it's a great Halloween movie. Def check it out!
> 
> Besides that, thanks for reading! Drop a kudos and a comment below as I love seeing you all enjoy my fics 😁


End file.
